


Apology

by saucisson



Category: Southland
Genre: Alternate Timelines, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucisson/pseuds/saucisson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long day sends John Cooper back to one he's wronged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apology

**Author's Note:**

> WIP so forgive the abrupt "ending" since I just come back to it as the next bit comes to me. Needs a shit-ton of editing. Takes place immediately after closing credits from "Legacy" (4x05). LA geography subject to edit, I just made some names up as placeholders. 
> 
> The way I wish it had gone with Coop.

John stood for a minute outside the bar, listening to his colleagues cheer his exploits. Its a good legacy, he thought. He’d been worried -- was still worried -- about that, after nearly destroying everything he’d worked for. It took a wet-behind-the-ears prettyboy to get him to do the right thing, and the shame still burned.

But today... it had been a good day, one to be proud of despite how it ended. He’d done his part, stood up for what was right, held back the tide of misery for a little while anyway. John turned and walked towards his car. All he wanted now was a little comfort; a drink, his sweats, a soft bed, his book. For some reason, Obi Wan Kenobi’s voice popped into his head: “I’m getting too old for this sort of thing”. Diving off the side of 10-story buildings, jesus christ.

Sitting at the light at the Rillito, Officer Cooper flipped open his phone and pulled up Caesar’s number. He stared at it for a moment. They were never “dating” but they’d been... close, at least until the pills took over. John felt a twinge of regret at the memory of the last time they’d spoken. Caesar had stuck around as long as he could, helping around the yard and occasionally bringing by groceries and fixing dinner. He’d tried to convince John to go for surgery, and reluctantly supported John’s reasoning not to, but eventually John’s insistence on self-destruction wore him down, and he stopped coming by. Being the only one who gave a shit was too much effort. The last time they’d seen each was just after John finished PT, in Dean’s. John was at the bar alone, nursing a Maker’s Mark when Caesar walked in, another man’s hand on the small of his back. The surprise on his face was apparent, and John was sure the disappointment on his own was equally so. Caesar had introduced his date -- Chris, Mike, Dave? Whatever. It didn’t matter -- and said “It’s good to see you, you look like you’re doing better,” before crossing to the other side of the room. John caught his eye once more, in the mirror behind the bar, but Caesar looked away quickly, seeming embarrassed to have been caught, and didn’t look his way again. John finished his drink quickly and left. That was more than two months ago.

John hit the “Call” button. A few rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey... It’s John.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“John. Um. It’s been a while,” said the tinny voice on the other end. “How are you? It’s late, are you... OK?” Cooper felt himself blush with shame at the reason for Caesar’s wariness.

“Yeah, I’m fine, everything is fine.” Cooper swallowed. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” Please don’t let someone else be there, he thought.

“Nah, nah” Caesar’s voice was low, and John knew the wheels in his head were turning. “Just finishing up grading some tests. So... what’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking... it was good to see you the other week.” What am I doing, John thought. He felt like a dumb teenager. “I just had.. a kind of a wild day. And, uh, and I wanted to say hi.” Oh man, what a fucking idiot. The silence on the other end lasted just longer than Cooper was comfortable with.

“I’m sorry,” Caesar said. He hadn’t seen the news, John figured. He heard Caesar take a deep breath. “Do you wanna come by? Or something?”

“Sure,” John replied, trying to sound surprised at the suggestion as if it hadn’t been his hope to begin with. “I’m at the Rillito, maybe 20 minutes?”

“OK, OK. I’ll leave the door open,” Caesar replied.

“Jesus don’t leave your doors unlocked for god’s sake. Come on,” John said. Caesar laughed at the familiar rant.

“I’m kidding, don’t worry. Door will be locked and bolted when you get here, I promise! See you in a bit.” John smiled as he hung up the phone. He turned onto Alvarado and began navigating out of the cesspool and towards suburbia.

A half hour later he stood on the doorstep of Caesar’s bungalow, six-pack in hand, finger poised over the doorbell. He stopped just before pressing it. He tried the door. Locked. Good. John rang the bell. Caesar opened the door and stood before him, gazing at him for a moment.

“You look really good,” he finally said.

“I brought beer,” John said, feeling lamer by the minute. Caesar smiled slightly and took the beers, stepping back to let John into the house. Caesar was set up in the living room, TV on mute and two stacks of papers on the coffee table, one covered in notations in red pen. 

“How are the kids?” John asked, eyeing the tests.

“Same as always,” Caesar said. “A few try, most get by with as little as possible. One or two like to make trouble, but they’re just kids. You want one of these?” he called over his shoulder, as he put the beers in the fridge.

“Actually, you got anything stronger?” John suddenly felt his 47 years all at once. A moment later he heard the clink of a bottle against glass, and Caesar returned with a whiskey. 

“You want to take your coat off?” Caesar held out a hand to take John’s coat, and handed him the glass in exchange.

Caesar looked John over. God he looked good, he thought. He was in a loose green jersey that sit perfectly across his shoulders and showed off his recently re-defined chest and arms, and dark jeans. Caesar thought back to when they’d first started seeing each other, when John was fit and healthy, those arms tight around him and his own body pressed up against John’s burly frame, kissing him... He inhaled sharply to snap himself out of the reverie. “Come on, sit down,” Caesar said, nodding towards the couch.

John sat down as directed, swirling his drink and staring into the glass. “Are you joining me,” he asked, finally looking up at the younger man. Caesar eyed the stack of unmarked papers. He’d planned on finishing the grading tonight, so it wouldn’t hang over his head all weekend and was about to say so, but caught John’s sorrowful expression and immediately felt churlish. 

“Yeah,” he said, turning back to the kitchen. “Yeah, I’ll join you.” He shook his head as he heard the TV click on. Shit just got domestic, yo.

The late news was on: another shooting, the State Senate voting on environmental legislation, and coming up after the break Hero Cop Risks Life to Save Bullied Teen! John watched his story come up. He saw himself through the lenses of a dozen iPhones and a helicopter news camera, halfway off the side of a building clinging to the ankle of a skinny teenager wearing a pink dress. He saw Tang’s hands gripping his belt, using the full weight of her tiny body coupled with every ounce of her strength to keep him from pitching over the edge, then finally the other two leaning over to haul Michael back up over the side. It was like a out-of-body experience, to see it through other eyes. He looked up at his friend.

Caesar was standing in the living room doorway, staring at the television with wide eyes and clenched jaw. He definitely hadn’t seen the news.

“Fuck,” he finally said.

“Yup,” John answered. He knocked back the rest of his drink. “Mind if I get a refill?” He walked to the kitchen before Caesar could answer, brushing against his shoulder as he passed. 

Caesar leaned into the contact. “Stay here tonight,” he said, and wondered immediately if it was a bad move. “Let me finish up these tests, I only have a couple more.” He took John’s empty glass. “You want to take a hot shower or something? Relax those muscles a little? Lookit, I’ll finish up the grading, we’ll have a drink together. OK?” He smiled sadly at John and turned towards the bathroom, tilting his head in a “go on” gesture. “Take as long as you want, I got a new hot water heater last month.”

John followed, a small smile curling up one side. “Thanks.”

Caesar pulled a towel out of a hall closet and shoved it into John’s hands. “Hop in, old man,” he said, pushing John into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. “Hey, some of your stuff is here... from a while ago. Shirt, track pants,” he called through the door. “I’ll leave them on the bed, OK? You’ll have something to put on when you get out.”

John cranked the hot water and turned away from the spray, letting the water pound into his traps and lats. Everything hurt, but he didn’t dare take anything stronger than a couple of Advil -- chased by several whiskeys. He’d left clothes here, apparently. Totally forgot about that. Caesar hadn’t brought them by either, he’d just hung onto them. John wasn’t sure what to make of that. He decided to make nothing of it, that seemed like the best approach for now.

John thought about how far he’d fallen. He couldn’t bring himself to think about that day when Sherman found him, literally on his knees looking for pills to steal. But he thought about Caesar, about when they first met at a community picnic, something about keeping kids in school and on the right track, bla bla bla. John had been dispatched as a representative of the LAPD due to his singular focus on the path of righteousness. Caesar Villanueva was a teacher in the local high school -- “Mister V,” the cute, affable one that all the girls had crushes on and all the boys wanted for their older brother. Probably some boys had crushes on him too. He and Caesar had made eye contact a few too many times over the afternoon, and their handshake had lasted a little too long, so it was no real surprise to either of them when a couple of weeks later they recognized each other across the bar at Dean’s, and twenty minutes after that found themselves in the parking lot in the front seat of John’s Charger making out like teenagers.

Their first real date was breakfast at a local diner. They’d talked about their respective jobs; John saw himself and Caesar as two wedges in the battle for civility. Caesar did what he could to keep these kids on an upward trajectory and give them a springboard into a good life, while John tried to protect the innocent and dealt with the cleanup when he couldn’t. Caesar was the teacher who cared too much, and inevitably broke his own heart when he couldn’t save the kids who fell through the cracks.

They’d kept things pretty casual for a while, no real commitment and a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when it came to other people, but John and Caesar enjoyed each other’s company and shared a vision about doing the right thing in the world, at least as much as one person can. Caesar was an easy person to get along with, and after days in a South LA high school, not much seemed to faze him. He certainly was able to absorb the more intense elements of John’s personality with no ill effects, and it was no small relief to John to spend time with someone who didn’t need saving for once. Caesar found John’s unwavering devotion to his job, even after 22 years when most cops seemed to have checked out, inspiring and helped keep his own cynicism at bay; sixteen years teaching kids who didn’t want to be taught, and whose families got poorer and more desperate every year, had a way of wearing him down. The addition of drugs, gangs, and the loss of eleven of his students over those years to shootings and prison nearly broke him more than once. John’s singular focus on upholding the law was something he found he could turn in to, to get some of that energy back..

Something shifted over Memorial Day weekend, when Caesar offered to help John build a retaining wall in his back yard. They (mostly Caesar really, John’s back was getting worse by the day) had finished the wall by sunset, and as they drank beers watching the fireworks, something fell into place. Caesar had leaned an elbow on his shoulder in jest, gloating over the work he’d done, and at that moment John finally felt so content, with Caesar next to him, and the warm night, and everyone in the surrounding homes so happy for the holiday. They turned to look at each other and then the click. John slid his arm around Caesar’s waist and kissed him, and for the first time it felt -- serious. After that weekend, there had been no more “seeing other people,” and weekends were spent at John’s house or up in the Hills. Caesar’s own house was too close to where he taught, and too many people would have taken an interest in the big white dude with the muscle car staying the night for Caesar’s life to stay comfortable and safe. John knew it made him sad; Caesar loved his neighborhood and his kids, and should have been able to enjoy his life around them. Still, it occurred to John that the school district out his way might be hiring...

After enough there was so much steam it was getting hard to breathe, John finally turned off the tap and towelled off. Stepping into Caesar’s room he found the cotton ‘kicking around the house’ pants he wore as pajamas, and an old t-shirt with the logo of a half-marathon he’d run in 2008 folded on top of the bedspread that Caesar’s Tita Marisol had made for him after he came out, to show him that he was still loved by someone anyway. As he pulled the shirt on he realised that it now smelled like Caesar’s house, Caesar’s laundry soap. It smelled... familiar. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, tracing the pattern in Tita’s quilt. In for the night.

In the living room, Caesar was sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, glass in hand. A single stack of graded 10th-grade History tests sat in front of him, next to John’s whiskey. 

“How was the shower? Water hot enough?”

“Perfect, about time you got that thing replaced.” John sat down and picked up his glass, knocking back half the contents in a single swallow. Caesar was staring back at the TV. The Daily Show was on, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh at the jokes.

“You’re probably pretty tired,” Caesar said. John nodded and rubbed a hand across his face. “Come to bed.” He walked past John and flipped the lights out in the living room, then walked into his bedroom. John followed, detouring once to double-check that the front door was locked. Caesar smiled to himself when he heard the doorknob jiggle. 

“Thank you, Safety Officer!” he called out. “There’s an extra toothbrush under the sink.” 

A couple minutes later John followed him into the bedroom. Caesar was turning down the top cover. “Hop in,” he said, and slipped under the sheet. John hesitated a moment, adjusting to the easy domesticity of the scene, then slid into bed also as Caesar turned out the light. He lay in the dark listening to the sound of Caesar breathing, taking in the distant-yet-familiar feeling of sharing his bed. He heard Caesar’s head turn on the pillow and felt a hand on his shoulder tracing the line of muscle with the backs of fingers. John turned into the sensation, while Caesar shifted to pull him close. John pressed his head against Caesar’s and breathed in deeply, remembering the scent of his skin. Caesar’s hand traced his arm again, focusing on the curve between his bicep and delt. Fingertips slid up to his head, stroking his hair, his ear, his jaw. John lifted his head as Casear moved in to kiss him. The kiss was slow and soft, and tasted faintly of whiskey and toothpaste. Caesar finally broke the kiss and leaned up on one elbow, pushing John onto his back.

“You look really good,” he murmured. John frowned.

“I let things get out of hand,” he replied. Really out of hand, he thought, and blushed at the memory of his own image in the mirror, of all the empty pill bottles, of being on his hands and knees picking Vicodin out of the desert sand. Caesar ran his hand up one arm and across his chest. Fingers traced John’s pecs, down his obliques and across his stomach, sliding under the t-shirt to graze his skin.. John sighed and closed his eyes at the sensation and opened them again to see Caesar watching him.

“It’s the world, man,” Caesar shrugged and leaned down again to kiss him again, sliding one leg between John’s. John pulled Caesar on top of him, Caesar sliding his leg over John’s body to sit astride his hips.

John gripped Caesar’s thighs, feeling the muscle beneath the thin fabric. He was beautiful, to John’s eyes. Eight years younger, he was slender but strong, and with just the beginning of a thickening around the middle as he approached 40. John hardly minded; he liked it, in fact. It was a man’s body. He had dark wavy hair and a light goatee beard and moustache typical of the local Spanish aesthetic, although he always shaved it for Parents’ Night or when members of the School Board were visiting. Caesar trailed a hand over John’s chest again, and tugged the hem of his t-shirt up. John partially sat up and pulled the shirt over his head.

“Damn, son!” Caesar muttered as John lay back down. John chuckled, then closed his eyes and breathed deeply as Caesar’s hand traced a line over his stomach and finally to his cock, semi-hard, which Caesar gripped lightly through the loose pajamas. John sighed at the contact -- goddamn, it had been a while -- and groaned as the hand began to stroke up and down, teasing it into a full erection. He opened his eyes a crack to see Caesar’s other hand inside the waistband of his own pjs, using quick small strokes to take the edge of his own arousal. John always liked that; he’d gotten himself off many times imagining Caesar jerking off: eyes closed and lips parted slightly, a furrow between his eyebrows almost like he was worried -- he’d seen that look dozens of times and it never failed to set him off.

This time Caesar was paying attention to John. He let go of John’s hard-on and planted both hands under the pillow, pressing his body along John’s and covering his mouth with his own. John gripped Caesar’s ass with his strong hands and raised his hips up, pressing his cock against Caesar’s. His partner moaned into his mouth, then shifted to John’s ear, then neck. John sighed with each new attention.


End file.
